Christmas Eve
On Christmas Eve GC and I worked our weekly shift in the soup kitchen at the Shepherds of Good Hope, serving up tourtiere pie and cauliflower soup and pastries.
Things were slow in the soup line, and there was a Christmas Eve Mass out in the parking lot at 8:00, so we stepped outside to watch.
I’ve been to Mass a few times before, but it was always a little too heavy on the pomp and ceremony for me. This one seemed more inclusive and down to earth. The priest wore a baseball cap. There was a bonfire in a metal barrel and we sang Christmas carols, and there was a part where you shake hands with all the people around you and say “Peace be with you.” I can’t remember if that’s a standard part of Mass, but I liked it.
Only a hundred or so people showed up for dinner. Anybody with anywhere else to go for Christmas was already gone. After they ate, a couple dozen people lingered around the TV to watch The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. I was glad they were safe and warm for a couple of hours at least. Shepherds is wonderful, but I wish everybody had somewhere better to go for Christmas.
Christmas Day
On Christmas Day, GC and I made Waffles with a Mountain of Fruit for brunch.
Mudmama and Papa Pan and Sprout dropped by for an unexpected visit. Sprout’s a toddler now. He’s a perpetual motion machine, but in a mellow, easy-going kind of way. His parents take turns sitting down and socializing while the other one shadows him, taking things away from him, removing things from his mouth, and stopping him from smacking the brand new Mac with a wooden spoon.
After they left, my son, James, came over and we made goofy movies with the web cam. This is James. (He’s still surprisingly single, by the way. For those who think all the nice, good-looking, straight guys are taken, click to enlarge.)
We had a traditional Christmas feast which included turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce, gravy, a medley of roasted yams, beets, red onions, carrots and parsnips, very special mashed potatoes, and a gingerbread cake with whipped cream. As usual, we ate around the coffee table because I still don’t have chairs.
GC lit the Hanukkah candles. (They were much smaller and prettier than I imagined. For some reason I always think of religious ceremonial items as big and ornate.)
First Christmas
This was GC’s first time celebrating Christmas! I think he liked it. He got all ho-ho-ho about Christmas shopping and singing carols and stuffing stockings and decorating the tree and wrapping presents and everything.
This was also Duncan’s first Christmas and I think he liked it too. He seemed genuinely interested in his gifts, and was especially enchanted by a set of catnip mice from GC.
From now on, I will no longer refer to Duncan as The Cat Who Never Plays. He tossed those mousies around and skidded across the floors after them with great enthusiasm and remarkably little grace.
I got lots of wonderful gifts for Christmas too, including an aromatherapy nebulizer I’ve been wanting, The Shock Doctrine, pyjamas with sheep on them, a bath sheet, Smarties, a wooden crow, Catopoly, a bottle of Bailey’s, a book about female street artists, and some wind-up grandpas who beat each other with their canes!
All in all, it was a most excellent Christmas and I’m happy I still have another week of holidays left before I have to venture back out into the world. I’m hoping the bus strike will be over by then….but then again, I’m an incurable optimist.
That’s it for today. Tomorrow I’ll tell you all about the woody I saw yesterday.
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That is one delicious looking fruit salad.
It was yummy. I love Christmas brunch.
Belated Merry Christmas! What on Earth is that massive gift for Duncan?
Our poor darlings got more forms of torture in their Christmas stocking, as modelled by our own orange dog-cat, Erik, and Mimi, Psychocat from Hades:
http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3285/3137088933_b95ea5a37e.jpg
and here:
http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3099/3137091451_4f36d4cc81.jpg
Woody means “erection” in australia
That only goes for stick-men up here, nurse. 😉
“For Duncan —- from GC”
ROFL!
(Have you even told your family what his real name is yet??)
(Does HE even remember what his real name is anymore?)
(;-D
Season’s Greetings and all the best in 2009 to you, GC, DDTGDC and your Warped Son (LavaLife), from your blogfans Annie et moi and our Board of (feline) Directors. Keep fighting The Good Fight!
Gilles
Arden – it was a placemat, and there were two bowls to go with it. This might stop Duncan from dragging his kibble bowl over to his water bowl and then scooping kibbles into his water with his paw. Then again, it might not. I love your cat pix. What IS that first one??
Nursemyra: Here too!!
Ian – really?
Gilles – we all go around calling each other by our secret code names over here. Don’t you do that at your house? 😉 (Thanks for the lovely wishes, and right back at ya.)
I love the idea of blending tradtions. But I do worry about The Dog. I always think cats can be left alone more than dogs but then, I don’t know much about cats. I see more blending in your futures.
Peter is called “the alleged husband” in some circles. I think GC is better than that.
lol, Erik kept getting the reindeer horns hat off in less than 3 seconds flat before I could manage to get a picture, so my mother, being the intolerably cruel woman she is, put it on his head backwards! It stunned him for long enough to take a photo! lol
We have had many cats over the years that enjoy putting food in their water. Some seem to want flavoured water, I think, while others are just dim, because they won’t drink the water after they’ve dumped stuff in it, but they keep dumping stuff in! 😛
two things.
woody means erection in canada too.
i wouldn’t recommend using that photo of your son if you are truly trying to get him a date or wife. lol